


Borrowed time

by Clairianne



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flirting, Judit is a cop and is tired, Judit thinking about her life choices, Kissing, Klaasje is still running away from something, Martinaise is still beautiful in its own way, Memories, Nothing explicit, One Night Stand, a lot of emotions smushed into one night, also, it's set seven years after the game, kind of reunion, wlw, written for Disco Elysium Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clairianne/pseuds/Clairianne
Summary: Like in the movies, the time seemed to stop for a second. Her eyes stayed glued on a tall woman leaning nonchalantly over a bar. Just standing there, taking the glass with her long fingers, being so radiantly beautiful and out of this place she immediately stole entire spotlight to herself.Judit had always knew she was a background character even in her own life, but seeing that phenomenon of a woman, she knew she found the main character, all over again.
Relationships: Klaasje Amandou/Judit Minot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17
Collections: Disco Elysium Big Bang





	Borrowed time

Wish I could have more time today...

Judit Minot shivered in her thin coat, leaning over the car mask. Her tired brain couldn’t produce more than one thought at the moment, so she didn’t try to. She tried to be at peace with that.

Why is Martinaise always cold? she wondered, her eyes scanning the stormy sky above the canal. Even if her visits to the place were often and not that far between for the past few years, she was always greeted with rain, icy wind, or mixture of them both. Do they know sun? Are they even once wore something which isn’t winter clothes?

“Are you completely sure you want to stay here tonight?” Émile Wiśniewski, her work partner and owner of a car she was almost lying atop of, asked, voice almost dripping with impatience. Lost in thought, she almost jumped hearing those words.

From his place behind a wheel, he looked suspicious at her, one perfect brow raised. 

They stood outside of Whirling-In-Rags, the place not changed with time at all. The district was as noisy and disintegrating as she remember, with surly people and ancient memories hidden in every broken fence and demolished wall. 

It was almost fascinating how working together for so long there Émile started to despise that place, when she grew into loving it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to? You’ll have to come back here in the morning anyway,” he just looked at her impatiently. Judit couldn’t know if he was more tired, mad at their current case or the fact that she would even dared to propose him staying there. “They have karaoke in here… maybe they’re gonna have some cool songs to sing?”

It was the last and only thing she knew he could take interest in, and for a moment, she was almost certain she saw the excited glint in his eyes.

It soon got lost in the bottomless annoyance seeping through his gaze at any given moment. She was sure he was the only person being able to make that look good. 

Judit decided to let him go then, knowing full well he liked his evenings quiet and in his own home. She looked at him departing, thinking how she envied him the mere possibility of calling a place his home. 

The smile slipped from her face. She was exhausted. 

It was almost silence after that, as if the city breathed deeply without the engine noise and two noisy policemen putting their ears and noses into all but their business. Almost, as the Martinaise was never silent, with the constant hum of the shipyard machines, the suspicious yelling and curses coming from every window and alleway. 

Work’s done for today, Judit thought to herself, wrapping her arms around herself while walking the short distance between her and the Whirling’s door with long strides. 

The inside greeted her with warmth, soft music and annoyed bickering from one of the tables. It wasn’t the same place she saw those years ago, yet it still was. It struck her how it felt more like lately thas old place with suspicious patrons and disco ball spinning 24/7 felt more like haven than anything before in her life. 

She made her way to the bar, feeling annoyed stare of Garte Lawrence on her face. She couldn’t fight the small smile appearing on her face when she took up her favorite barstool and the man sighed as a greeting. He was always there, always bored or annoyed, like the guardian of all those desperate enough to enter the place. 

Without at word, he gave Judit her the key to her usual room, trying hard not to let her know he was waiting. 

How many regular cops could be in a place like that? she wondered, pocketing the given object. 

“Good evening, Lawrence,” she said, putting her short hair behind the ear. “I assume my booking went through.”

“You’re lucky you’re a cop and a regular; for some reason we’re totally booked this weekend,” he said, his tone as annoyed as always. Some things never changed. She loved him for that. 

She hummed, too tired to ask about anything more. 

She needed to save the energy for the next day and another countless hours of questioning about the case looking as hopeless as she felt.. 

Judit liked to think she and Garte were friends, even if odd ones. They bonded over few stressful days she spent worrying about Harry Du Bois and his mental state, sitting on that same bar stool, drinking frightening amounts of bad coffee and listening Jean Vicquemare’s and Garte’s constant bickering. 

Lawrence was never mean to her; she gave nothing less in return.

When the Jamrock’s police force started to expand their jurisdiction onto Martinaise and Judit’s superior officer had to choose who will oversee most of the operations in that area, for some reason, it was Judit who had got recommended. She had her suspicions why was that; from her team, she was the only one who didn’t plainly reject the idea. Harry always got the haunted look in his eyes hearing of Martinaise; Jean couldn’t be bothered enough to get away from the city again, and Kim was just too good of a cop to even entertain the idea. 

With years, new partner and gained experience, Judit learned that to be a cop in a place like that, you have to sacrifice your pride, your sanity, and delusion that people would talk to you when you show them kindness. 

Lost in thoughts, Judit looked at Garte’s methodical counter sweeping, almost transfixed how all the lights in the room loved the gold band on his ring finger. It wasn’t there the last time she visited Whirling few months ago; she wondered who was the lucky person. 

“I feel like we’re having a reunion I wasn’t aware of happening this weekend.” Garte said evenly, pulling her out of the deep thoughts about significant others and those who wasn’t privy to have one. 

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, almost absentmindedly, her own hands rubbing together. 

“You’ll see soon enough,” he said, and with surprisingly kind smile turned around to disappear into kitchen, leaving Judit with the feeling of uneasiness and no other choice but to go to her room and prepare for another day of work. 

**

Judit was tired. 

Her bones ached from running around the Martinaise all day, her head was heavy with too many informations and already drank alcohol, and she wondered if sitting in the full cafeteria alone was really something she wanted to do that evening.

Around her, people was celebrating another finished week. The music was blasting through the speakers. The disco ball was spinning around as always. The colorful lights were hitting all the right surfaces, making the old cafeteria looking alive, with vibrant colors and pulsing neons.

Judit looked into her glass, lightly moving her head to the familiar tune of some old disco hit, watching how two small cubes of ice were drowning in the brown, bitter liquor. Her head was heavy. Not matter how many nights had she spent in Whirling, no matter if it was first thing in the morning or in the middle of the night with colorful lights around, she could never shake off the memory of the first time being there. 

She wasn’t the same girl she had been those long, difficult years ago. Faced with the fact that being an adult didn’t mean you have your life under control, seeing how the person you idealised for the longest of time wasn’t even real, feeling the pain of being forgotten by one of your only friends. 

Looking at barely conscious Harry Du Bois, drunk of out his mind, stumbling over the place like a lunatic, searching for answers and his own self.

Sometimes, Judit became melancholic. Especially after long days at work, when she was left alone, questioning herself about her life choices, beating herself over the only one question.

Was it all worth it?

People around her were dancing, chatting and drinking, and she looked around, wondering how many of them had someone to come back to, like Garte who smiled under his nose, or Émile, always sure he would be home before 9PM. She wondered, how many of people there was like her, unable, or unwilling, to let go of something or someone who wasn’t around anymore. 

If she’d looked at her left, there were Hardie Boys, or more, what was left of them. She had worked with them for long years at that point, but she still saw the regret and sadness in Titus’ eyes. Even around all those new, young members, taking the place of those who perished because of one stupid decision, he was more silent, more cautious. Where did his smile went?, she wondered, locking her eyes with the man for a second. He nodded at her, one sharp movement. She raised her glass and took a long swing. 

If she’d looked ahead, above the patron’s heads she could see the bar and the dancefloor just beside. With the lights, the disco ball and the music, it looked like the place she would dream about of visiting when she had been a teenage. It was only added bonus that most of the dancing girls wore beautiful, sparkling costumes and dresses, making Judit jealous. She was never one for to party, but her tired soul mixed with alcohol made her almost sad she wasn’t one of them, lost in the music and feeling of other people around, entranced as herself. She was always surprised how euphory mixed with alcohol made people forget that it’s temporary.

That the new day would come, no matter what, and the dull everyday life would be the only thing you should be focusing on.

Judit felt exhausted of even thinking how exhausted thinking made her. Being there, away from her precinct and her colleagues and her empty apartament made her realise that she couldn’t remember the last time she went out to do something which wasn’t work. “Being a cop is to forget about personal life and regret it every day for the rest of your life,” Jean Vicquemare, her superior and almost friend used to say to her when she was still that naive patrol cop. He had taught her early on that free evenings were something to be cherished. 

After almost nine years of working at Precinct 41 and finally becoming a sergeant, Judit knew he had been completely and utterly right.

She sipped her drink slowly. Had she even had any friends outside of work? She tried to wonder about that, but she wasn’t sure. When was the last time she had been on a date? Been years. 

It made her depressed.

On her right, the rain was running down the window with constant flow. Judit looked like transfixed on all of the lights shining through the droplets. It was beautiful; she missed the rain in the winter, no matter how cold and uninviting it was. 

After a long while, when the rain stopped running down the glass and her drink was finished, she looked at Garte, and with surprise she realised his eyes were already on her. 

The look was intense, and daring. Then, he turned his head, starting to talk to the person in front of him.

The sight of that person was so random and unexpected that Judit realised with her heart doing a painful throb, she made a sound bordering on a whine. 

Like in the movies, the time seemed to stop for a second. Her eyes stayed glued on a tall woman leaning nonchalantly over a bar. Just standing there, taking the glass with her long fingers, being so radiantly beautiful and out of this place she immediately stole entire spotlight to herself. 

Judit had always knew she was a background character even in her own life, but seeing that phenomenon of a woman, she knew she found the main character, all over again. 

From all the people her and Garte both knew, Klaasje Amandou, The Miss Oranje Disco Dancer, former corporate spy, almost suspect of a murder (and the star of almost all Judit’s wet dreams for years), was the last person she had expected to ever see again.

And yet, there they were, and Judit couldn’t decide if she wanted to run away, or stay there forever.

Klaasje did something, probably smiled, and moved towards the dancefloor, glass in one hand, ready to show everyone how to dance in a main character way, and Judit was devastated she hadn’t has stayed at her previous barstool near Garte. 

Just see, for a second, the perfection of that woman from up close.

And the sight, oh gods, the sight of Klaasje dancing, basking in the lights casted by the disco ball, moving her hips and hands to the carnal beat of the music, would be the sight Judit would never, ever forget.

All of her previous thoughts were lost somewhere. She could only watch.

Klaasje’s eyes were closed when she swayed. 

Judit knew she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop looking. It was against human nature not to look at that sight from heaven, no matter if with jealousy or want. Klaasje’s body, covered with tight, black jumpsuit were hypnotic, leaving only those with the strongest will knowing to mankind unmoved. 

For a second there, Judit sat there with anticipation, joyful to no end that she was lucky enough to lie her eyes on that miracle that Klaasje was twice in her lifetime. 

But then, other thoughts emerged, blunt and devastating.

Did Klaasje even remember me?

She knew it wasn’t possible. It’s been years, and even then, they weren’t even properly introduced. Yes, Judit heard about Klaasje constantly, during and after Kim’s and Harry’s investigation, she even talked with her once, when she had nothing more to do but listen to Jean and look outside the Whirling’s window. 

She had also watched the woman every move whenever she could. 

But Judit was always plain, shy and soft spoken, definitely not noticeable. She also had the skill to attract people way more vibrant and pronounced than her. 

She wondered, if it even mattered. Pushed onto the cafeteria's corner, with wonderful view on a dancefloor, she could look how much she want. She could record the dance with her mind, and then replay it how many times she wanted, dreaming about what ifs and perhaps. 

As if on cue, Klaasje’s eyes opened and her gaze moved lazily around the audience, searching, or humoring all of the onlookers. Judit almost gasped when they stopped somewhere around her direction, and she could pretend for a second that the main character found what she was looking for in Judit. 

Too soon, Klaasje’s eyes closed again, but her hips and hands moved even more smoothly than before. 

Feverishly, Judit decided she could pretend, this one time, that the spectacle like that was for her. She didn’t know how long she looked and dreamt, how many songs started and finished without her knowledge. She just knew she felt more drunk, and more alive than ever before.

It was like her first time, when the thoughts that maybe she wasn’t interested in men like all her girl friends, emerged. How girls’ smiles and hands made her heart beat louder than any men ever could. How making out with guys wasn’t even half as exhilarating as even imagining the same things with one of her female friends. 

Back then, she was frightened and hopeless, and felt broken.

It’s been years, and now she openly looked, silently hoping. 

She had to be in some kind of trance, because one moment she was deep into imagining those steel eyes in completely different circumstances, and then she saw how Klaasje was leaving the dancefloor for a bar. Then, making her way towards the crowd, her platform shoes making a noise even above the music and all of the patrons watching her every step. 

Judit lowered her eyes, ashamed; the spectacle was over. Klaasje found someone interesting. She looked at her glass, but decided against another drink. It’s time to go to bed and decide how to tell Harry about all of this. 

Her thoughts were cut shortly when Klaasje Amadou sat in front of her. Her steel, cold eyes shone with alcohol and pleasant exhaustion. Judit forgot how to breathe and after two lost breaths she realised the woman started to talk to her.

“... are you here to arrest me?” Klaasje said, her voice sounding cold, but a little bit quivering. The absurdity of the question made Judit blink few times. 

“Why would I? I-I mean…” she couldn’t find any words, looking at that beautiful face so close that made her dizzy. “I’m here to arrest. But not you. And not tonight.” 

Klaasje visibly relaxed, and Judit didn’t understand. She could only look at Klaasje’s naked, long arms crossed on an old table before them, wondering. What was even happening?

After a moment, when her brain dealt with part of the informations, she realised, with something between complete horror and bliss, that for some reason, that woman remembered her. 

“You know who I am,” it wasn’t a question, and it felt foreign on her lips. 

“You were the last person I thought to see here again, Miss Minot,” Klaasje had said, her tone again bored, but warm. “Of course I remember. I’m a spy, am I not?”

Judit didn’t have anything clever to reply, transfixed on those long fingers playing with the glass they were holding. She was sure her face was on fire. “It’s just Judit.” 

Klaasje made a sound like she was gigglin.

“It’s nice to see another familiar face here, Judit,” her name spoken by her was some dream come true, and she couldn’t keep up with her heartbeat anymore. 

“What is your name, this time?” Judit asked, and she heard her voice as it was spoken by someone else, in other room. Klaasje laughed at that, rasp and beautiful.

“Let’s stay with Klaasje, for old time’s sake,” she said, and then got up from her place. That was fast, good job, Judit thought. That’s how you talk to people. “Would you like to accompany me on a walk? I could use some fresh air, and we could talk more privately.” 

For a moment, Judit could only stare at the blonde, as if her mind couldn’t translate what was said to her. Private was the only thing she heard. 

“Come on, get your jacket, we’ll meet outside, Judit.” Klaasje said, already half the way to the stairs. At that moment she knew already it was no way she could’ve refuse anything from that woman.

Judit, stunned, looked around and noticed that half of the cafeteria, with both Titus and Garte, looked at her in shock. 

She felt like her job in that place would become way more difficult after that evening. 

***

Judit felt like in a dream. They walked together on the uneven path towards the pier, not much space between them, both silent. The evening was warmer than the day before, which was surprising, but not unpleasant. 

Judit’s brain didn’t recover after the entire conversation in the cafeteria and she still didn’t know what to say. Klaasje appeared to be deep in her thoughts, her steps sure, but uneven, her lip between her teeth. Around them, the city decided to fell silent for the first time in ages. 

With all the absurdity of the moment, Judit was at peace. 

The old, wooden pier was crackling under their feet. There was no waves on the bay, no ships moored. When they stopped, Klaasje lit her cigarette, and Judit looked, transfixed, how she puffed out the smoke. 

Her mind was buzzing. 

“What are you doing here, Klaasje?” Judit heard her voice, too loud for the serenity of the moment. 

The question just slipped out of her lips. She regretted it immediately, especially when Klaasje didn’t reply for a long, long time. 

“Maybe I missed this place,” she said, eventually. Her voice was distant, and her eyes lost somewhere far away. She was even more beautiful in the dim light of the street lamp, covered in smoke. It wasn’t that surprising that the night loved her.

Judit really, really wanted to kiss her. 

“Maybe I wanted to hide here, again. Maybe…” Klaasje sighed. There was a pain in her voice, and Judit’s heart sank too. Then, she shook her head lightly. “Does it even matter?”

“I don’t think it does,” Judit agreed, because it didn’t. “But why did you decide to talk to me this evening? From all of the people you could? That matters.” 

Klaasje looked at her then, her intense, icy eyes dimmed with thought. All that attention just made Judit feel exposed. 

“You don’t come back to a place to find something new,” she said philosophically. “I think, deep down, I hoped to see someone from my past, here. I immediately saw it in your eyes, that you remember. Me, as a person.” 

It was silence after that, when Judit tried to find her breath and any logical thought. She was far too gone at this point, she realised. 

“We’re both here, only for that short, borrowed moment between today and tomorrow, aren’t we?” Klaasje started, again, and Judit agreed. “We are here for that reason, to meet once again in Martinaise. I’m gonna try to delude myself I’m gonna find something I lost so long ago it could stop existing to this point. You are here for a reason unknown to me and I don’t want to know it. We’re here together now, because I saw how you looked at me on a dancefloor and I liked it. We’re having only one evening. Does it have to be more than that?” 

Judit looked how she extinguished the butt on a stake next to her and left it there. Her fingers trembled lightly when she hide them on the coat pockets.

Does it have to be more than that?

“I’m glad we’re here now,” Judit said, because she was tipsy and her lips were faster than her brain, and she was too tired to be ashamed. “Borrowing some time together.”

It was cheesy, and completely not how Judit usually handled self, but it was sincere. She couldn’t wrap her head around that situation, why did she decide that it’s good idea to share something like that with complete stranger.

They shared memories, but they weren’t connected at any way.

Yet, they were there, together. 

Judit felt excitement in the pit of her stomach. 

“How’s your life, Judit? Do you have everything you looked for?” Klaasje asked, and Judit looked up to find her eyes. 

“I’m still searching. Still… trying,” she whispered, because Klaasje was closer than she had realised before, and was looking for something in her warm face. “What about you? Are you still running away?”

“I will always run away from something,” she said, her voice as quiet. She looked exhausted, as if she wasn’t happy for the long time. 

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then, Klaasje’s fingers brushed Judit’s hair, taking one loose strand between her fingers. Judit’s stopped breathing when those fingertips brushed her ear. “And no one will ever be able to catch me.” 

For a second, Judit wanted to plead Klaasje to run away together. If she’d been still a teen, she probably would. 

But she was in her thirties, with responsibilities and work and unpaid taxes, and seizing her dreams wasn’t a viable option for long, long years.

“I wish I could…” Judit started, but would never know what she wanted to say herself. 

Klaasje’s eyes were sad, but her smile was warm at that moment when she cupped Judit’s cheeks and kissed her lips once, twice, delicate, once more, all exhilarating and perfect.

Her lips were soft and tasted like smoke and hint of cherry, and Judit felt dizzy. She stood on her tiptoes and threw her arms around Klaasje’s neck, kissing her with as much heat and desperation as she could. 

It ended too soon, with Klaasje’s teeth nibbing at Judit’s lower lip, them looking at each other with dimmed eyes and shuddered breaths.

“I can offer you only one night,” Klaasje said, still cupping Judit’s face in her hands. “Nothing more, but also nothing less. Us, together, borrowing time, here,” her voice was only a whisper, and Judit knew she could never refuse anything to those icy eyes. 

Teenage Judit screamed in her, when they both found their way to Klaasje’s room. She couldn’t understand how exhilarating the feeling of taking someone for one night stand was, how her blood rushed through her body with every breath and how much she wanted, needed it.

To have something to herself, for one night. To kiss, touch, and claim, and got drunk in the presence of another person. To not think about future, to exist only at the present, at that one moment, in the forever.

To lie on one bed, exhausted and content and proud, nothing else real but that room, Judit’s head on Klaasje’s arm and her fingers drawing shapes on one naked backs.

“You should sleep,” Klaasje’s said, her voice rasp. 

“I was suppose to enjoy myself today, not sleep,” she whispered, and felt how Klaasje burrowed her face in her hair. She was uncomfortable at the thought of how normal all of it felt. 

“You knew it’ll be like that,” she heard the muffled reply. “I can’t give you anything more.”

“I know, I just… I know,” and she did. So she made Klaasje look at her and kiss her already swollen lips.

They were silent for a while after that; the only sound was their shared breath, but Judit felt her mind loud and clear. 

“I wish it would’ve been different,” Judit murmured, looking at the moon painted patterns on a wall. “Wish I could borrow one more day with you. To get to know you, even a little bit...”

Judit moved her head so they lied face to face, noses touching. Klaasje had the longest eyelashes she had ever seen. She wished she had more time to know all of the facts about that woman. 

She was also weirdly okay with it not being the case. 

“Will you stay here tonight? Just till morning…” Klaasje asked, and Judit just nodded.

“I couldn’t refuse even if i tried.”

Tomorrow, Klaasje would wake her up with a kiss, for both good morning and good bye. Tomorrow, Judit would come down to cafeteria and look proudly into Garte’s questioning eyes. She would make her job as best as she could and refuse to tell Émile about her evening, at least for that moment. Her heart would hurt, but she wouldn’t regret anything.

But at that moment, she kisses Klaasje again, and borrowed a little more of time together. 

THE END 

  
Drawing of my partner for this exchange, wonderful Crowsang <3 (Just look at that beauty)

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's here, my addition to Disco Elysium Big Bang :) It was an experience, especially creating my own relationship tag here. This piece was created only thank to the help of wonderfu, amazing and talented crowsang (here are her links to follow, you won't regret it! [ 1 ](https://cr0wsang.tumblr.com/), [ 2](https://www.instagram.com/cr0wsang/), [ 3](https://twitter.com/cr0wsang/), whose drawing you can see on the end of the story (which is wonderful and her Klaasje is... the best). Also, many thanks for Cerebrobullet for being wonderful beta and even better friend. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and play this wonderful game :3
> 
> [ Come and say hi :3 ](http://clairles.tumblr.com/)


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